


Dr. Strangelove or How Leonard McCoy Learned to Quit Worrying and Stick to Brown Liquor

by dommific, ken_ichijouji (dommific)



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-30
Updated: 2009-06-30
Packaged: 2017-10-17 06:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/173681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dommific/pseuds/dommific, https://archiveofourown.org/users/dommific/pseuds/ken_ichijouji
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Leonard McCoy got sick as shit off clear liquors and the one time things were okay. Look all he ever drinks are things like whiskey and bourbon. There has to be a reason is all I'm saying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dr. Strangelove or How Leonard McCoy Learned to Quit Worrying and Stick to Brown Liquor

_**Fic: Dr. Strangelove, or How Leonard McCoy Learned to Quit Worrying and Stick to Brown Liquor**_  
Title: Dr. Strangelove or How Leonard McCoy Learned to Quit Worrying and Stick to Brown Liquor  
Series: Star Trek reboot. One day I will surprise you all and it will be Star Trek/ReBoot and there will be much rejoicing. Alas, today is not that day.  
Pairing: Bones/booze, Kirk/Bones  
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: Five times Leonard McCoy got sick as shit off clear liquors and the one time things were okay. Look all he ever drinks are things like whiskey and bourbon. There has to be a reason is all I'm saying.  
Warnings: If alcohol abuse (as in partying and hangovers, not twelve steps and the serenity prayer) bothers you, I suggest you don't read this. I'm warning for impending Chekov cute and douchebaggery because, as we all know, vodka is a Russian invention and tv series Chekov is a prick. I feel I should point out it was either this or a Bones-centric peice to "Doctor My Eyes." Which I will probably still do. I apologize for nothing.

 _Tequila_  
It was their first night at the Academy. Jim had decided for some reason to celebrate their haircuts and being clean shaven by buying them a round. Soon they were six deep in shot glasses with salt shakers and limes in a bowl.

"What the hell?"

"Oh don't tell me you've never met Our Dear Lady of Patron." The kid's grin hurt to look at, it was so bright. "Expert drinker like yourself, I'd think you guys'd be old friends."

"You take one flask with you on a shuttlecraft and suddenly you're the resident alcoholic. And don't goad me, it's annoying." He gingerly took a shot glass, careful not to spill any. "What's all this other stuff for?"

Jim's grin somehow got even bigger. "Okay real simple. Lick your hand and pour the salt on it. Grab a lime. Lick the salt, take the shot, bite the lime. It's _awesome_." Following his own instructions, Jim got himself ready, his tongue lingering on the spot of skin in between his thumb and forefinger. Leonard warily followed suit. "Ready? Go!"

They quickly took the salt, downed the shots, and sucked their limes.

"WOOOOOOOOOO!" Kirk screamed. "Oh that's good shit."

"It's not bad," McCoy conceded. He went to get his glass of water when Kirk stopped him.

"Dude. There's no water. We've got five more shots to take."

"Call me 'dude' again and I'll make sure your next physical ends badly. I haven't eaten since lunch, Jim, and I have to be up at oh-six-hundred for a lab. Five more shots isn't happening."

"Whatever, it's Patron. It's practically water anyways. You'll be fine, trust me." Jim handed him another shot. "Come onnnn."

Against his better judgment, he took the shot. And another one. And then however many more, he lost count around five. The bar was spinning around him, colors were blurring into one another. He felt great for the first time since the divorce. Sure he couldn't stand straight without holding the bar but that was a trivial detail.

Jim had just ordered them another set and he gladly took one. It took a few attempts but there it was in his hand. They had stopped doing the salt and lime ritual four shots back and were taking them straight. They were men, goddammit. Men didn't need chasers.

"To friendship!" Jim bellowed and downed his shot.

Leonard followed suit. He had just finished swallowing his when something felt wrong. Like he was...oh.

Somehow vomit had gotten all over Jim's new regulation boots.

To friendship, indeed.

 _Gin_  
"Come on, Bones."

"No."

"Seriously, this will make you tons better."

"I said no, dammit."

McCoy had been under the weather with a case of Andorian flu for the past week. It was finally on its way out, but he was still saddled with small aches and stomach problems. Jim, in his either brilliance or hidden hatred of Leonard, decided to play nursemaid.

"Bones, look. You're still fighting to keep food down...you need to get something in you. Here." He held out a steaming mug. "Drink this, it'll help you."

"It smells like Christmas tree water." Grudgingly, the doctor took two sips. It was terrible. "Sweet Jesus, it even tastes like Christmas tree water. What the hell did you put in that?" His stomach was flip-flopping again, oh God he thought he was almost done with this.

Jim shrugged. "It's a tea that my grandfather makes when he's sick. Just black tea, a tiny bit of honey, gin, and..."

Bones's head was in the trash can before he could finish his sentence.

 _Rum_  
He hated military functions and this one was no exception.

Okay, so _technically_ this was a mixer organized by the Xenolinguistics club, but still. The fact that he kept letting Jim drag him anywhere was starting to concern him somewhat. He was a doctor, not a wingman. At least the punch was good.

The faculty advisor of the club looked to be having about as much fun as he was. But then the guy was obviously Vulcan, so what'd he expect.

A pretty girl with golden skin served him another glass of the pink punch. He smiled at her and then drank half the cup in one sip. These things were such a waste of time.

Speaking of a waste of time Jim was needling that cadet again. He had been harassing - Uhura he wanted to say - for her name for almost eighteen months. Kid really didn't know when to let things go. He felt a bad headache coming on, most likely out of sympathy. She looked like she had things under control so he went to get more punch.

McCoy was ladling some into his glass when that Vulcan guy strode over with the gold-skinned cadet from earlier. "Doctor, I would advise against drinking that substance further."

His headache was really bad now and for some reason he felt sick. "Oh?"

"I believe the colloquialism is that the punch has been...spiked."

He thought he had liked it a little too much. "Well? With what?" The Vulcan peered down at the girl who looked properly cowed.

"A handle of rum, sir."

Maybe it was all of the sugar, but he started to feel like he did with the tequila. "Oh a handle of rum. That's wonderful. If you'll excuse me, I need to go throw up now."

And he somehow calmly made it to the restroom just in time.

"Bones? You in here?" Suddenly, Jim was smiling down at him. "You okay? You didn't look so hot at the party."

"Never again," he muttered as he lay his face on the floor. Oh it was so nice and cold. "Never again will I drink with cadets. I'm a grown man, dammit, and this has happened too many times since I got here. So long as I go to this God-forsaken academy, I will be dry as Caldecott county on Sundays."

"Bones..."

"Don't argue with me Jim." He waved his left hand vaguely in the area where Jim was standing. "I'm done. No more alcohol except medicinal whiskey. I'm out."

 _Moonshine_  
"You never learn, do you?"

McCoy groaned as he finished throwing up for the fourth time in twenty minutes. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as Jim gently brushed his hair out of his eyes. "Sc-Scotty said he...chang-changed the...recipe."

Round five, ding. His stomach long since empty, he pitifully dry-heaved into the toilet.

Jim sighed and continued to rub light circles on his back.

 _Vodka_  
When Jim said he was planning on having a party to boost crew morale, he didn't imagine he would be faced with something like this.

The cafeteria looked as if Joanna's sixth birthday party had exploded all over it. It was covered with streamers and balloons; where Jim found those on the Enterprise, he was pretty sure he did not want to know.

Jim was busy with Sulu telling the story about the drill on Vulcan to Yeoman Rand,the latter clearly vying for her attention. Spock and Uhura were talking quietly in Vulcan amongst themselves in a corner while to his horror Nurse Chapel flirted with Scotty and that green thing that followed him around.

"Doctor?"

He shook himself out of his thoughts.

Ensign Chekov smiled at him and handed him a chilled flute filled with what appeared to be water. "My Mama, she send this to me from home. Was invented in Russia. You look like you could use, da?"

He took the flute from him and sniffed at the liquid. "Good God, that smells like rubbing alcohol."

Chekov beamed. "Is very high quality! Mama send it in honor of our voyage. Pasha, she say, Pasha you take and you share with comrades!" The ensign's eyes were bright and blue and it would take a much stronger man than Leonard McCoy to resist that face. He took a sip of the cool liquid. Surprisingly, it went down very smooth.

"Not bad." Soon he and Chekov were carousing like old drinking pals after killing most of the bottle. Pavel was trying to teach him a Russian drinking song but he couldn't get the words out right.

"Vish...vis...I'm terrible at this!" Bones laughed sharply.

Chekov clapped his hands with delight. "You are!"

"I should teach ya'll somethin. Now lemme see here, what's a good one..." He downed more of the vodka. His head felt really _heavy_ for some reason.

"Doctor?"

"Yeah I'm...why's it gettin' so dark in here?" The doctor's eyes closed and his head slammed down into the table, startling everyone else in the room. The captain jumped over a chair and ran towards them.

"Bones!" He opened one of the older man's eyes. Yeah, he was out cold. Jim surveyed the damage and turned McCoy over to Chapel's capable hands. This way he was free to focus his rage on his junior officer. "I don't know what's worse. The fact that he's going to kill me when he wakes up to a vodka hangover the size of Texas or the fact that he's drunk because of _you_ of all people. Wait. You're like stone-cold sober. How the hell?"

The ensign shrugged. "Been drinking vodka since I could walk, Captain."

Jim tried really hard to ignore the fact that Scotty just high-fived the kid and then pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "You got the chief medical officer so wasted he fell over in the middle of a party and is completely unresponsive. Chekov, what do you have to say for yourself?"

Chekov merely huffed. "How was I to know Doctor can't hold his liquor?"

 _Sambuca_  
He found himself in the Captain's quarters one night. "You wanted to see me, Jim?"

"Yeah." Jim gestured at his table which had two places set at it. "I don't get to harass you much these days so I thought we could have dinner. Catch up."

"We're not going to drink are we?" He was still reeling from the vodka and it had been six months.

Jim laughed. "No...well, yes. But just some Vulcan mulled wine to go with our steaks. Look, I've even got bread! There's no way for you to possibly get sick this time."

The food did smell good. Jim looked slightly nervous and expectant. So he did the only thing he could do; he sat at the table.

They enjoyed their meal together, talking about everything from ship's gossip to life back home on Earth. It was easy and comfortable and in spite of the weird looks Jim kept giving him, Leonard could not recall the last time he enjoyed himself quite as much.

After they were done eating, he moved to Jim's sofa. His friend poured something into two snifters and walked over to sit next to him.

"Here." Jim handed him a glass with three coffee beans floating in a clear liquid. "The three beans mean health, happiness, and prosperity. You eat them and it really brings out the flavor of the anise."

Anise. "...This is alcohol?" He started to panic. "Jim, you know I can't handle clear alcohol."

There was a flicker of something across Jim's face. "Worried you'll get sick, Bones? We both know I'll take care of you if you do." He cleared his throat, focusing his attention back to his drink. "I mean, you just sip this anyways." He titled his head back and slowly sipped at the sambuca. "See?"

McCoy followed suit. "Well, I guess that's not too bad." They sat next to each other in silence, although this one felt a little...awkward.

And Jim kept staring at him.

He was this close to snapping at the younger man to take a picture when something clicked into place. The quiet dinner alone, the furtive and strange looks...

"Jim?"

"Yeah?"

He took a deep breath. "Are we on a date?"

Jim winced for a moment, then calmly set his drink down. "Do you want it to be a date?" The look in his eyes was equal parts terror and optimism. It made something catch in Leonard's chest and he was suddenly very sure about his answer.

He kissed him, just experimentally and once. It was nice, Jim's lips were surprisingly soft and he tasted faintly of the Vulcan wine and the sambuca. So he did it again. And again.

When they broke apart, Jim's face had a grin that could light up the entire ship. "What was that for?"

Bones smiled. "All those times you held my hair back." 

\-----

Also my new pet theory is that whenever a cast member is missing in the original series they're off visiting Space Paris. Perhaps strolling down the Space de la Concorde. If you get that joke and you hate me, don't worry I hate myself a little for it.  
Maybe I should write the alternate of the first scene where they do body shots on the Tijuana planet and it leads to dirty things happening. Because _yes_.


End file.
